


When We Wake

by ThatRandomStrangerAtWalmart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Brotherly Love, Hints of Flushed Romance, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, after SBURB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRandomStrangerAtWalmart/pseuds/ThatRandomStrangerAtWalmart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dave and Bro wake up, finding themselves on a new planet and not quite human, shit goes down and irony is off the charts.<br/>In which Dave and Bro are kawii fucking pale bros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New World, New Rules

Everything is dark when you come to, much darker than you're usual comfortable with.

There is a slight burning in your chest, noticeable, and you are growing in discomfort. Luckily, the sensation is being drowned out be what can only be explained as 'fuzziness'. Said 'fuzziness' is washing over you in waves, almost like electricity. It is only after taking a moment to locate where the source of odd aching, it turns out it's in your chest, that it points out that you're not breathing. No wonder it hurts. If you could move your limbs, you might of facepalmed. 

To your surprise, you are completely unable to move. Your heart echoes in your ears, sounds much different than you remember, but its been awhile since all you could hear was your heartbeat. Is it...beating in three-four? You push that stupid, and probably irrelevant thought out of your mind, and focus.

Breathe. In, out. C'mon, lungs, work with me here. You think, the burning now passing the staticy feeling, and pain becoming evident. It’s kind of ironic, since you are able to tell the time without a clock, and know exactly how long you’ve been doing something without a timer, but you cant breathe without thinking about it. Your muscles protest as you force your lungs to expand. Nonetheless, you manage to get a wheezy gasp of air in. After a few moments of struggling, you get into a rhythm. 

After taking in a small portion of air into your flat lungs, you push past the pain and exhale, repeating the motion until your body does it by instinct. Slowly, the fuzziness begins to ebb away, though it is replaced to something similar. Similar...and wet? After a minute, you will your eyes open. A pale light is shining nearby, one of which you don’t bother trying to pinpoint right now. Your attention, instead, is dragged to the grainy soil you are laying on, and the sound of waves crashing.

“A beach. You are on a beach.” An strange voice tells you, helping ,you realize, the ground you feel must be sand, not soil. The wet feeling is obviously water, but why in hell are you on a beach? “Try to remember.” You do as the voice says, not feeling the need to question it. And then it comes to you.

==>

Your name is Dave E. Strider, and you have no idea where you are. Panic shoots down your spine, you silence this immediately, in which you notice is bent a bit awkwardly as you lay half upside-down on the sand. Pushing past the initial ache your muscles are telling you specifically not to push, you manage to sit up. In doing so, your hair, which has been in the sand for god-knows-how-long, dumps grains of the substance all over you. You, however, do not break your poker face. 

Striders just deal with it, so you merely shake out your hair, whipping your head back and forth for a moment, and brush the annoying soil out of eyes. By doing this, you scrape your claws over your- wait, what?! You pull back your hands, staring at them with confusion. It’s just as you felt, there are claws. You almost wonder what else has changed, but something on the horizon catches your eye. You tell yourself to calm down, as you noticed another wave is approaching, and stand. 

Or, sort of stand. It’s more like a dog like pose, or maybe an ape’s. You set a reminder to yourself to take a look in a mirror soon, but your first order of business is to find some shelter. But before you even do that, you take inventory.

==>  


To no ones surprise, you still have your sylladex, and strife specibus. Before the thought passes your mind, you have already equipped your sword. Who knows what the hell is roaming around, though for the moment all you see is a beach. Despite that, you can smell something nearby. Your stomach growls, and it’s almost mouth watering that there is something that might be edible nea--wait. No. How the fuck, and where the fuck, did that come from? What are you, Terezi? You are not a grey skinned, horn smacking, teeth clacking troll. You cannot just ‘smell’ presences. Or......are y--. NOPE, Do NOT even consider it Strider. Focus!

Oh yea. Weren't you doing something important? After re-applying your signature poker face, you check your sylladex. You have 6 of 9 slots open. In the 3rd slot, you have a “Bunch of shitty swords”. How the hell you managed to keep them all this time is amazing, but true to their name, they are basically shit. In the next slot over, you find your IShades. These shades, not only a stylish and hands free device, are broken and practically USELESS. You, too much of your unseen delight, are already wearing your signature shades, to go with your non-existing expression. In the ninth, and last taken slot, you find....OH HELL YES!

You find an unopened bottle of apple juice! The gods have blessed you with the most ironic and delicious drink known to man. You lick your lips in anticipation, about to chug the heavenly beverage, until your eyes notice the pale unmistakable glow of light that must of been the sun rising. You weren’t terribly concerned. That was, until you noticed the rest of the sky. Instead of there being that one lonely pale ass looking down on you, there was two of those fuckers up in the sky. It was like they were the sky’s watchers, peering down on you with translucent wisdom. This struck you as odd, because last time you checked, your planet did not have two orbitals.

 

“This isn’t your planet, Dave. You are on Alternia.” Well no dip, sherlock. You wanted to respond, but the voice was being helpful, that...and the fact Striders didn’t respond to imaginary voices. Wait. Alternia? Then that means.... You glance over at the rising sun, and now there is a panic that you cannot shake. It drives you to move, unfreezing you, and pulling your attention away from your apple juice. You waste no time captchalogue the drink, and completely forget your ‘cool kid’ appearance for a moment to whirl around, frantically searching for a suitable place to stay throughout the day. You know from Terezi’s story of being blinded, and the near death reports that showed up Aradia’s husktop when you used it that one time, that Alterian sunlight is no joke.

 

And you DO NOT want anything to do with that shit. Luckily for you, you spot a small cave in the hills above the beach just ahead, and book it on all fours. You know this isn’t how people usually run, but with the enhanced senses, the claws, and the fact a killer sun is on the rise, you can’t be convinced to give a crap right now. So you run, legs launching you forward, claws digging into the sand to get more leverage, and this sends you catapulting down the ocean-side. It is then that you hit dirt, but the difficulty doesn’t increase the slightest. You send yourself right into the cave, skidding to a stop only when you are enveloped in darkness.

Your breathing has remained the same since you have woke up, shallow, almost useless breathes, and you calm yourself now. Dave, look around the cave.

You look around the cave. Actually, there isn’t much in here. As you noticed before, it is quite small. The walls are made out of a dark blueish stone, and its pretty dark and eerie in here. You don’t feel quite comfortable in this cave, slightly nervous something would jump out and attempt to make you lose your cool. But, being a Strider, you dismiss the thought that anything except for you can make yourself lose your cool. You readjust your shades, reapplying your poker face. Now, you stand only on your feet, tall and confident. You don’t quite hit the ceiling of the cave, but you hear a small ‘clink’ and there is a force that forces you to bend your feet a little.

 

Huh. That's odd. You don’t see anything on the ceiling, or anywhere in the cave, that could make that sound. You do see a scuff mark, though, that you could of sworn wasn’t there a moment before. You brush it off, and shrink back from the entrance as a stray beam of light pours in from outside, not wanting to get burned, as that would totally screw with your cool kid appearance. Despite it being dark when you first entered, the light level in the cave has gone up some. Well, whatever. Not that you’re complaining. You glance around the cave once again, and notice a puddle in the corner. There is a steady ‘drip,drip,drip’ echoing that you didn’t notice before, and with each drop the puddle grows larger by just a millimeter. You lean back until you hit a wall, and you sink down to the floor. You pull out the apple juice again, and twist the lid off with a meager flick of the wrist. You raise it to your lips and drink lightly, savoring the taste and the feeling of something wet and cool slipping down your throat. Before you realize it, you’ve down a third of the bottle.

You pull away, knowing you should save some for later, and recap it, letting out a short, yet soft sigh of relief, arching your back in a stretch. Thunder rolls in the distance, which is weird, since you didn’t expect Alternia to have thunderstorms. Which, in hindsight, was a stupid assumption. Why wouldn’t Alternia have weather like any other plant? “Stop being so culture-biased, Dave” Oh, my bad, didn’t realize you gave two shits about Alterian weather, is it that important right now? You got no response. Which you were strangely grateful for, as it would have been odd to have a argument with yourself. You were standing now, and gazing at the barren cave with boredom. Your thoughts were broken by a sudden loud clash of thunder, and a strike of lightning. A figure gathered on the illuminated bank below, a extremely powerful aura generating from around him. Kind of like the radiation the green sun let off, or perhaps Jade’s dog, Beck. Dave! It is advised you turn around!

⇒

You turn around, and see nothing there. There wasn’t anything in there in the first place, what are you even talking about? It must of been nothing. Dave, investigate the puddle.

==>

You stride over to the puddle in the corner, the water is murky and you cannot see your reflection. Dammit. The reminder you set earlier has been going off for a while now, but seeing as how there are no reflective objects in the cave, and you have nothing on you that would work as a mir-- Wait a second! Your IShades! Those would work perfectly. You take them out of you sylladex, and hold them up to your face. Sadly, it is a bit too dark in your current environment, and the sunlight is a bit too intimidating to approach.

Don't get it wrong, you can deal with the pain, but you're no masochist. You half sigh, there goes that plan. You literally have nothing to do, and to be quite honest, you’re not so sure how long you can stand it. You direct your attention to the entrance of the cave again, watching as it begins to drizzle. Lightning and thunder are becoming more frequent, and you can tell that the storm is literally just over head. As you look out further, it seems to be like a hurricane instead of a thunderstorm, and your cave seems to be the eye. 

Wind is whipping up and down the beach, flinging small grains everywhere. It was like a million little fucks were given, and flying around the whole world like overzealous dream-come-true’s and--You know what? Screw metaphors! You’re going to sleep!

Dave, go to bed!

⇒

You fall asleep immediately, falling like the dead to the cave floor, lulled to by the storm raging winds and rains.


	2. Let's Have A Fucking Reunion

You are awakened by a sharp slap to the face, which you respond to by thrusting your sword with impeccable accuracy. You open your eyes, delighted to find, that, yes, you do have your shades on. You are not surprised that you have your sword, as you never let it out of your sight. Speaking of said sword, it has found itself at someone’s throat, who you immediately realize must be a troll. You’re not sure which tipped you off first, the horns, the yellow eyes, or the grey skin. 

Needless to say, you are standing a moment later. You know how dangerous trolls can be, having fought them before, and are not about to take your chances. He, you’re guessing it is a he, looks fairly average. His black hair is in a buzzcut, candycorn horns in simple long points. He isnt built, and only has a measly amount of muscle. You are on some sort of beach, one with smoothed pebbles in replacement of sand. Above you loom large cliffs, creating a slight overhang. Your gaze snaps back to the troll, who has been stiff for the past four seconds or so as you looked around. First things first, information. A cool dude such as yourself has to keep up with the times. 

"Where am I?" you ask, your voice a little different than you remember, but then again, the last thing you remember is dying. Your accent is a bit dilluted. Each word is well pronounced, sounding clear, but with a sort of thunderous undertone. You put up your perfected poker face.  


He flinches as you press your blade closer after a moment of silence. He should know better than to keep a cool guy like you waiting. "Alternia, south side." He manages, his voice is a bit squeaky. Alternia? So you're on the troll world. Huh. That works, you guess. This is probably the work of Dave and his friends. You smirk, letting out a rumbling chuckling sound at the thought, and dip the point of your blade down to his collarbone. You are tempted to ask for food, but push that aside. You senses are going wild, you can smell is fear, hear the waves on the rocks, and see everything. You can feel the moonlight washing over your bare back, but you, thankfully, are wearing pants. 

Thank god for your shades, or he would see how you are only slightly held together. "Hey" you call his attention back to you as he begins to turn his gaze away. He looks at you again, obviously curious why you haven't killed him yet. Soon enough. The thought passes through your mind without any hesitance, and you're partly shocked. Something isn't right... "How's my headgear?" You ask, watching his reaction very closely. Surprise, confusion, relief. 

"Uhhh, take a look for yourself" he scrambles to his knees, searching for something, until he hands you a mirror. You hold it up cautiously, still watching him, and look at your reflection. Your skin is a very light grey, lighter than the troll's in front of you, teeth now fangs as you run your blackened tongue over them. Your hair is the same, spiky , looking stylish, a pair of pointy reverse-corkscrew yellow and dark orange horns shoot towards the sky. You will admit, they are pretty sick. You are a troll. Well that explains alot. You toss the mirror back at him, noting the way your claws clack together. He fumbles, nearly dropping it, before clutching it close to his chest. You nod to him, pulling back your katana entirely, before striding past him.

"Uhhh...hey!" he calls after you, and you pause. "It's um...almost sunrise. You should find shelter soon..." he reminds you that the sun here is lethal to most, and you nod again. He looks like he's going to speak again, so you stand there for a moment until he works up the courage. He pulls out the sword you caught a glimpse of earlier, and your eyes lock on it immediately. He isn't attacking you, obviously, but you're already on edge and a tempted to jump him. Hey, troll senses, chill it with the 'kill' instinct. The sword is rugged, nicks everywhere in the metal , and pretty shitting looking. He's saying something, about how it washed up on the sand an hour before, but your eyes stay on the sword. For some reason, it's familiar. And then it hits you. Dave had that sword with him when he-- Your eyes widen behind your shades, and he jumps when you flashstep in front of him.

"Show me exactly where you found this. Now." You growl the last part as a demand, and he scrambles ahead to show you. You keep up with him easily.

It is only you have gotten about halfway back to his hideout that you hear the thunder. You can feel it in the bases of your horns, which is an odd sensation, you admit. Your head immediately shoots up when you notice a pink tinge on the horizon, and you flashstep to your acquaintance. You give him a "Just run" look, forgetting about your shades for a minute, pointing at the sunrise. He books it down the beach like his life depended on it, which, in this case, it does. You followed him, easily matching pace, and soon bounding past him. At some point you must of grabbed his arm, because now you are towing him along underneath the overhang. Your nose is going haywire, as you can smell two different presences approaching as you skid into what you have labeled for the time being, "Safezone" You turn, eyes scanning the area. You see a small figure in the distance as it skids into a cave, the sun not far behind it, and another dissapear beneath a small cluster of trees far on the opposite horizon.

You turn to the troll you are familiar with, and find he is staring at you. It is then you realize you are growling, is that a troll thing too? You don't know. You cock your head a bit in his direction, knowing he wouldn't see your raised eyebrows, and he flushes a dark brownish orange. He must be a low blood. This makes sense, and even though you are not completely familiar with the Hemospectrum, you know that it's kinda like a reverse rainbow. You are slightly tempted to cut a small slice on your hand to find out your own blood, but it would probably scare your troll acquaintance. Besides, isn't it better you don't know, and find out in the heat of battle? Yea, probably. You bring up the option of sleep cautiously, and he agrees just as warily. Despite finding a semi-comfortable rock to lay on, and the fact you are a bit frazzled from all of these troll shenanigans, you're wide awake. Mr. PointyHorns over there though is fast asleep. You sigh, roll over to face the ocean, and the sun in this case, and look out at the deep red water. It reminds you of Dave. 

Well...everything reminds you of Dave. The sun's intensity is like Dave's unprotected gaze, harsh and calculating. The stones beneath your feet are smooth, soft almost, like Dave's skin. The troll's breathing is loud, but not obnoxious, and makes you think of the days when Dave would sleep with you. Despite the presence near you, a pang of loneliness and wanting began to gnaw at your insides. Or maybe that was hunger. Yea, probably, your stomach was complaining. Very loudly at that. The troll across from you stirred from sleep and glanced around. You blinked, as it was now nearly night again. How long had you been lost in thought? He looked at you as your stomach let out another sound, and though you were slightly embarrassed, you did not blush. You considered apologizing, but the thought was quickly dismissed. You were too cool for that. You settled with a easy alternate. 

"Did I wake you?" He shook his head after a moment of hesitation, and then gestured to the setting sun. 

"I woke up because of the temperature change." You nodded, as you too had felt the sun's rays dying. He rolled over, slumping against the sharp rock, and stretched out until his limbs were slightly limp. He looks like a doll, you muse. You thoughts turn to Little Cal, who was probably ripped to shreds in some foreign place. He had a habit of getting destroyed. You shrug this off, standing up. Your nose twitches, smell something foreign. Panting, the fast rise and fall of a eradic heartbeat, followed by the lungs, muscles. Something edible. Something that makes your stomach curl in anticipation, and drives you dry bloodlust up the wall. You shift stance, falling down on claws and clothed feet. 

The troll looks at you for a moment, and follows your lead. You set forward, skimming over pebbles and various shells. Back hunched, hair standing on end in anticipation. You turn the corner, running a black tongue over your sharpened fangs, and let your eyes sweep over the land. There it is, an odd sort of wolf, or hyena of sorts, struggling to outrun yet another troll. All hunger aside, your attention focuses on the white skinned troll. Thought you can't see him very well, you have a nagging sense that you might know them, but the light is still shining. What is it doing? Sure, the bright sun is fading fast, but it's still there. Shouldn't they be dying, or atleast in pain? You glance at the troll you are atleast somewhat familiar with, but he merely shrugs. 

"Some aren't hurt by the sun, they're the lucky ones." Was his short explanation. You now were extremely tempted to test out your theory, but had no way of doing it unsuspiciously. 

Screw it. 

You stand, ignoring the odd looks you get from the grey skin, and walk into a small spot of sun. It feels...nice. This is a surprise, you guess you're one of the lucky ones. You let yourself untense as a nice warmth spreads over you, muscles relaxing slightly. You can feel the grey skins bright yellow eyes on you, and become a little on edge again. You can feel the way his hate is bubbling up in the glare he sets on your back, and you sink on all fours again. The white skinned troll is heading in your direction, and you send a glance to the grey skin. He is obviously nervous, and now that you get a better look at the troll, you figure he has every right to be. Raw power rips through his arms and legs, as he is wearing what looks like mere shreds of what used to be pants. But it isn't what he's wearing on his lower half that frightens you. 

No, it's what he wears on his face. 

You know those shades, the way they send light spraying off the side of his face and in every which direction. Those are Dave's shades. Where did he...? Oh my god. He is now within 20 feet, and skids to a stop at the sight of you. His prey, which was nearly trembling from effort, collapsed nearby, completely forgotten. Oh my god. Your eyes burn through your shades, as do his. Bright amber meets deep ruby in a clash of shock and disbelief. He seems to be even more surprised to see you then you are him. Your eyes fly to his horns, which are much longer than you thought they would be. Long, dark marron, and slightly thick backwards ram horns bend all the way back, just past his neck at the tips.He struggles for words, eyes never leaving you, even when the grey skin begins to retreat. A trembling whisper passes his lips, and your heart surges.  


"Bro?" Oh my god...OH MY GOD. You rush forward, not caring how stupid you looked with a giant smile on your face. It was faster than flashstep, and yet it wasn't fast enough. You grasped him in your hands, er, claws, pulling him to you. He was shaking, holding onto you like you were his lifeline. "I missed you." He manages, lips brushing against your only slightly darker chest, and a sound emerges from you. It isn't a growl, but a combination of that and a purr, and it rumbles from your throat. All you can think is Dave, Dave, Dave, and his smell, cinnamon, takes over your nose. It's then you realize you're saying the first part aloud, but you don't care. You sit back, and pull him onto you. You hold him, and never want to let go. Whispers are pouring from your lips, praise and loving words that you mean with utmost truth. He just nods and accepts your kindness, trying to keep his claws from digging into you as he hugs back. 

You manage to reconstruct your cool facade a moment later, clearing your throat loudly after a moment of silence. You both unhook your claws from each other, standing up a bit awkwardly. You shift, fix your crooked shades, as they are a bit lopsided from the collision. You half turn, poker face reconstructed, and see that stupid grey skin staring at you. There is a small ping of anger as he gapes at you, almost lustful, and than a furious one as he stares in a way of longing at Dave.

It is a slight twitch of the lips, on curling up in the slightest grimace, that Dave catches. Who, surprisingly, has a similar grimace. Not one of embarrassment, but of annoyance and slight aggravation. This nearly sends you over the edge, but you do not let on that anything is wrong. Your poker face, for about the 7th time today, is remade and you plaster a look of nonchalontness on your face. You smirk, eyes traveling back to Dave's head. Fluffy white hair conceals the base of his new head gear, and you desperately want to run your hand through it, but that doesn't stop you from complementing them.

"Nice horns, little bro. That shit is wicked." He blinks, and pulls the most confused face you've ever seen on the kid. His head tilts to the side, eyes wide, brows furrowed in a way that can only be explained as fucking adorable. Then it hits him. He mouths 'What?' and then pops something out of his sylladex. It looks like another pair of shades, backups maybe? That's actually a good idea, but it looks like he's using them to see his reflection. He freezes as his eyes hit his horns and nearly drops the backup pair.

You see his adam's apple bob with a gulp, and that's really distracting. Thank god he can't see the way your eyes are tracing the lines on his neck, or the way you find yourself staring at his lips when he licks them quickly. You can tell he's unnerved, he must not of noticed the obvious fact he's a troll. You can't really blame him, the claws are wierd, but not a true troll feature, and his skin is only slightly lighter than it used to be. He quickly recovers though, and mimics your poker face. He doesn't say anything, so you turn, yet again, to the grey skin. He hadn't seen Dave freak, as he had moved too fast for anyone but you to see, but he could probably smell the confusion that had wafted from him for a moment. It is then that the dog creature, long forgotten, yelps as it tries to stand on sore muscles.

Dave is the first to react, spinning on his heel and striding over to the animal. The grey troll looks at it warily, but when Dave looks back at you, a slight nod is all he needs. His sword is out and slicing the animal’s head off in an instant, blood sprays in an arch near you, and the smell of it hits your nose. Bloodlust is returning, and you cannot resist the urge to smirk, fangs aching. You approach your brother, who is still holding his half broken (but still badass) sword, and place a hand on his shaking shoulder. This calms him, keeps his urge to kill in control, but he was still shaking with effort. You look down at the animal, and give small praise for the clean cut. The beast wasn't very large, but would still be able to feed several trolls..... unless those trolls were two hungry Striders. 

But Dave took pity on the grey skinned troll, and sliced yet another cut. It was fairly well proportioned, all things considered, and the troll seemed thankful when you tossed it to him. You weren't concerned when the grey skin disappearing as the sun did, but Dave seemed a bit on edge. You weren't sure whether trolls needed to cook their food before eating it, and you didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. Sending a raised eyebrow in Dave's direction, and getting nothing in return, you take a bite. 

The answer is immediate, your body does.not.care. if it's cooked or not. You manage to nod to Dave, who follows your lead, digging into the meat. You both finish in moments, only slightly satisfied despite having eaten everything except for the bones. You let out a small burp, and the younger Strider gives a polite "excuse you". You smile now, genuine and happy. He catches this out of the corner of his eye as you turn away, and a similar smile plays on his lips lightly. You let your eyes take in the darkened landscape, and after a moment you can't help but ask. 

"Was it you I saw sprinting down the beach like a fucking cheetah crashing a herd of elegant prancing antelope?" He nods, giving a quick explanation of,

"Didn't want to get caught in the sun, you know, in case it killed me?" the words are almost sarcastic, but you detect a hint of honesty in them and decide to let it slide.  
You turn to him again, unable to keep your eyes off of him for extended periods of time, and can't help the smirk with glee as you realize something. Your little brother is ALIVE, and isn't going anywhere. Not on your watch. You know everything will be fine, even with the weird troll shenanigans, as long as he's with you.


End file.
